


able to love

by Elendraug



Series: Striders + Boyfriends [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Bulges and Nooks, Cloaca, Communication, Compersion, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Hand Jobs, Illustrated, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Partners, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Partner Swapping, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Canon, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sex Toys, Sloppy Makeouts, Sloppy Seconds, Wet & Messy, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 07:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16827550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elendraug/pseuds/Elendraug
Summary: THE DUDE PILE. DOESN'T STOP. FROM GETTING TALLER.—or—homestuck’s all stars all fuck





	able to love

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday dave & dirk! I meant to post this for 11/11 but missed the chance. karkat’s wriggling day is too far off
> 
> this fic has evolved a ton since I started it back in spring 2015, especially since I wound up writing and publishing the surrounding sections before finishing this one, damn
> 
> thanks so much to my friends who've helped beta read and give feedback along the way, this wouldn't be here without a lot of help
> 
> thanks to freakyhumanshit for the illustrations
> 
> shout-out to benny benassi for providing background music to my porn-writing efforts for like a decade
> 
> and a very respectful shout-out to david bowie, whom I love dearly, who died in the middle of me writing this. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to finish it but I would like to believe that he wouldn't want me to give up on it after all that, so.
> 
> enjoy
> 
> ♫ benny benassi: able to love  
> ♫ deadmau5: bored of canada

[ ](https://freakyhumanshit.tumblr.com/post/126892595340/karkat-is-like-thats-real-fucking-cute-and-all)

The movie's hit the 1:25 mark and they’re all getting a bit restless when Dave shifts closer to Caliborn on the couch-folded futon, just enough to nudge his thigh against Caliborn's. There are mild, low-level Jim Henson explosions on-screen, but Dave's not concerned with it. Caliborn glances down to Dave's leg, then back up quickly to meet his eyes.

Dave smiles. It's not lecherous or demanding, or even smug. Caliborn thinks back to watching everything unfold across every game session, thinks back to the "alpha male" and his "smooth ways" that had made such an impression upon him. Regardless of the situation, Dave presented himself as cool, charming, and confident, even if private conversations proved otherwise. It's what Caliborn has always wanted for himself, and what he wants to see in others. 

Getting to see him and Dirk share one hell of an intimate dude moment on the roof, though. That was when his positive opinions about Dave had leapt from “vaguely distanced crush” to landing solidly in the territory of “that guy’s fuckin’ trustworthy.” Not to mention hot as fuck, both before _and_ after he’d been officially invited to participate, and not just talk things out with Dirk via Pesterchum.

On top of all that, Dave smells nice. Granted, every scent other than a stale, musty meteor is a fucking gift from the universe, but Dave in particular smells like somebody Caliborn wants to get close to, so he does. He scoots in, too, settling in against the warmth of Dave's side, and tilts his head to rest gently against Dave's. Caliborn pulls his legs up onto the futon, his bare feet braced on the edge of the mattress.

It's then that Dirk puts a hand on his knee.

Dave and Caliborn both look to Dirk for his take on the situation, and what they get is exactly the variety of sly, slightly lecherous smirk that Caliborn nearly expected of Dave earlier. They relax their posture where they'd tensed momentarily from fearing jealousy, even without any prior basis for any concern. Dirk's just not that sort of dude, and there’s a level of open communication and honesty that has been established to begin with, back on LOTAK initially and doubly so when they settled into the same living space, after the game.

Dirk runs his hand from Caliborn's knee down along his thigh, squeezing when he nears his hip. He shifts to lean sideways against the back of the futon, his shoulder pressed to the mattress/cushion, his posture inclined towards Caliborn. When he speaks, it's without regard for Jennifer Connelly confronting the perils of Escherian stairwells. His question is matter-of-fact, the tone as casual as if he were asking for everyone's choice of pizza toppings.

"Do you want him to touch you?"

Caliborn glances between Dirk and Dave, but it's Dave he looks to when he replies. "Yes."

Dirk points his inquiries at Dave, next: Dave, who's curled in on Caliborn, already with his leg sliding up to rest his knee over Caliborn's other thigh, the one Dirk's not feeling up. Dave, whose eyebrows lift, who bites his lip when Dirk directly addresses him.

"You wanna touch him?"

Dave gauges Caliborn's expression for his reaction, which is overwhelmingly positive and encouraging. He keeps his eyes on Caliborn. "Hell yeah, dude."

"If you guys were waiting for my supremely rad bro-blessing, this is it." Dirk grins. “This has been kinda... what you were both aiming for, wasn’t it? If the pesterlogs I was copied in on were any indication.”

“Yeah, basically.” Dave grins back, only slightly embarrassed about their mutual infatuation being the topic of discussion. Past the embarrassment, though, he’s into the attention. “It was a fuckin’ matter of time.”

“Or a matter of fucking time,” Caliborn adds, amused with himself.

“Or that, yeah.” Dave starts kissing Caliborn's jaw, down to his neck, and pulls his t-shirt collar aside to continue his efforts where the cloth had been in the way of his shoulder. 

It's all the encouragement Caliborn needs to press his back to Dave's chest and angle his head so Dave can easily suck on his skin. His breathing is steady until Dave bites at the junction of his neck and shoulder, and he lets out an encouraging sound that’s probably louder than strictly necessary. Nobody ever accused Caliborn of being too quiet.

"You like that?" Dave asks, before licking at the spot.

"Hell fucking yes." Caliborn pushes back against Dave's lap, eager, and legit bats his fucking eyelashes at Dirk, who's been watching, appreciative, the whole time. "Do it again, Dave."

Dave tugs Caliborn's collar down and to the side until it's caught on his upper arm. "Your wish is my command, Dr. Who Gives A Fuck." Dave isn't sure if cherub skin bruises the way human or troll skin does, but if Caliborn wants a fucking hickey, he's willing to give it a shot.

"I'll forgive that joke, but only because you're so fucking hot."

"I regret nothing." Dave bites him again, and speaks, garbled, into his shoulder without relaxing his teeth. “Except wasting a Shadow Paintbrush on a fucking Scorchio back in 2005. What the fuck was I thinking. Fuckin’ fat knock-off Spyro-wannabe motherfucker.”

Caliborn groans at the Neopets bullshit and the biting, equally, and reaches out for Dirk. Dirk's there in a flashstep, his hands braced on the futon mattress to steady himself, on either side of Dave's hips. He wedges his knee between Caliborn's thighs and leans in, with his ill-fitting Small Colorful Horses officially licensed merchandise tugging tight across his chest and with the straps digging into his shoulders. Honestly, the cami wasn't meant for somebody his size, but Dirk hasn’t let that stop him. He's committed.

[ ](http://40.media.tumblr.com/b6f774f46cb4dd72da7d9c6ebb48ce8e/tumblr_nsskfdiHco1s5at38o5_r3_1280.jpg)

"You need something?" Dirk asks, fondly.

"You."

"D'aww."

Dave adds, “I need 500,000 neopoints and some rare Neggs.”

Caliborn makes a noise that's halfway between a snarl and another moan. "Shut the fuck up, or I’ll start actually negging you."

Dave’s about to reply and Dirk hovers a hair's breadth away when Karkat finally speaks up, his arms folded across his chest, on the far end of the futon-couch.

"You assholes just missed multiple massive fucking opportunities to warn Sarah about the stairs, _and_ to swoon over human David Bowie, who still manages to be strangely attractive despite not being a troll, and whose powers evidently include altering the flow of time!" He gestures widely, to the screen and back to Caliborn and Dave. "You two nooksniffers should have your alien curiosities piqued, since he’s dicking around with the 13th hour!" Karkat points at Caliborn. "That's _your_ thing, in particular, isn't it?"

Dirk presses his lips to Caliborn's cheek and stares back at Karkat. "You feeling left out, buddy?"

"What!?" Karkat sputters. "No, I'm trying to watch this fucking movie!"

"You can join in any time, you know," Dave offers. “Neopets is free.”

Karkat rolls his eyes and huffs. 

“I’ll pay for your first month of Neopets Premium.”

“Dave, hang on.” Caliborn pushes both Striders away and looks over his shoulder. "Do you want us to stop?"

"Uh." Karkat pauses. "I guess not? I mean, it's fine. It's hot and all, I'm just trying to focus on the story." He shrugs and grabs for the remote, to pause the movie and fiddle with the settings. "I'll turn on the subtitles."

"Can you read them?" Dave asks.

Karkat bristles. "Yes. Well, mostly. There's a couple words that still throw me fucking occasionally."

"We can go in another room, if you like," Dirk offers. He rests his chin on Caliborn's shoulder, where Dave has shoved his shirt aside but left his suspender strap intact. 

"Funny. I figured you'd want me to watch you, Dirk." Karkat makes eye contact with Dirk and holds it. "Like last time."

Without looking away, Dirk idly kisses Caliborn's collarbone, and smiles. "I'm deeply invested in what it is that you want, Karkat."

Karkat's eyes wander; Dirk knows when he's being scrutinized, or lusted after. Maybe both. "Human David Bowie comes first. Then, and only then, will I deal with you guys."

Dirk snickers. "Deal with us coming?" 

Karkat rolls his eyes and unpauses the film. Dave reaches over to take Karkat's hand into his own and squeezes it. Karkat squeezes back.

“I’m thinking you start with a Bruce, and add a Slorg for a Petpet,” Dave suggests. “Play some Meerca Chase.”

Caliborn threads his fingers into Dirk's hair and urges him upward. "Both of you stop talking about Neopets and kiss me."

"Good luck shutting me up." Dirk kisses Caliborn's face, then speaks against his mouth. "I _will_ kiss you, though."

"Goddamn right."

And Dirk does, his lips and tongue completely familiar and comfortable, with one hand reaching down to unclip Caliborn's suspenders from his pants. Caliborn kisses him back, needy, and steadies himself with a hand on Dirk's thigh. Dirk covers it with his own and rubs at his wrist with his thumb.

Dave is once again pressed flush to Caliborn's back, his chin on Caliborn's shoulder. "Can I touch you?" he asks, his voice low and breathy.

"Hell yes."

"Like, uh." Dave trails his hand along Caliborn's side to rest at his hip. "Can I give you a handjob?"

Caliborn grinds his ass back against Dave, where his boner is readily apparent. "Hell _fucking_ yes."

"All right, then." Dave kisses his neck. “Guess the Neopian discussion wasn’t a turn-off, after all.”

Caliborn rolls his eyes.

Dirk drops kisses on Caliborn's cheek, jaw, and throat as Dave winds his hand further down to paw at Caliborn's crotch. In some ways, Dave had expected that even through the god tier pajamas, Caliborn would feel warmer to the touch down here than he actually does. _Snake people._ Figures. All the same, the reaction he gets is a positive one, and Caliborn makes his best effort to push forward into Dave's hand while simultaneously pushing backward against his dick. He has mixed success.

"Dave, _fuck_. " Caliborn's hand clenches and unclenches on Dirk's thigh. "Stop teasing me."

"Whatever you say, dude." Dave brings his hand to his mouth to lick his fingers amply, then shoves his hand into Caliborn's pants, the waistband of his underwear taut across Dave's knuckles. Caliborn's hemipenes are already everted; when Dave takes one between the pads of his thumb and forefinger and rolls it, Caliborn reflexively pushes down onto Dave's hand.

Dirk kisses Caliborn, open-mouthed, slowly, with their tongues touching. Caliborn shivers and rocks his hips against Dave's fingertips, wet with spit as they fondle his hemipenes.

With their mouths occupied, and the sound effects of their sloppy makeouts louder and more distracting than whatever’s going on with saving a toddler from a time goblin, it's up to Dave to fill in the ambient dialogue. He speaks against Caliborn's throat, with his fingers working quickly and slickly over Caliborn's hemipenes and cloacal flap. 

"I know we've never fucked," Dave starts, "or like, not in person, at least? But shit, dude, I am so on board for making you come. I dunno what you even fuckin' got down here exactly?" He flicks his thumb against one hemipenis for emphasis. "But holy fuckin' shit do I ever wanna get my tongue all up on that business. I wanna make you come like nobody's ever done before. Just get you spread open on this fuckin' futon, get your thighs apart, and get my mouth in there."

Breath ragged, Caliborn pulls away from Dirk's lips long enough to reply. “Like Dirk did with you?”

Dave feels heat spike in his gut. “Yeah. Just like he did.”

“Since _that_ was a resounding fucking success,” Caliborn says, flustered, “I grant you free rein to do whatever the fuck you feel like.”

"Free rein, huh?" Dirk notes, perpetually amused by horseshit. He slides his hand under the hem of Caliborn's shirt and edges it up along his chest. "I think he should eat you out, like he suggested."

"Fuck yeah, man." The suspenders dangle free and brush against Dave's hand where he strokes across Caliborn's stomach. "I'm gonna lean you back, and get your... uh, your..."

Dirk helpfully chimes in. "His vent."

"Oh my fuck, his vent." Dave thinks back to Davesprite and pushes his dick against Caliborn's ass. "I'm gonna get your vent under my lips and lick you stupid."

Caliborn squirms against Dave's fingertips, with his own hands holding tight to Dirk's thigh and shoulder, respectively. "Dave, _fuck_!"

[ ](http://40.media.tumblr.com/8379841c406104af2a18365acfd39cca/tumblr_nsskfdiHco1s5at38o6_r3_1280.jpg)

Dirk kisses Caliborn, licking at his mouth, across his teeth, anywhere that'll get him stimulated. He's long since gotten accustomed to the nature of cherub teeth; he's fairly confident he never even minded the potential risk in the first place. Growing up in a diluvial apocalypse had altered his sense of danger, no doubt.

Caliborn stares down at Dirk's erection where it tents his pajamas. His face is flushed; he rolls his hips to grind on Dave's fingers like there's nothing else in all of paradox space that matters. 

"God, you're so fuckin' hot," Dave continues, speeding up his hand as his fingers worry with Caliborn's hemipenes. "Gettin' so fuckin' worked up for me. I'm gonna fuckin' get you off so goddamn hard and get these pants off you and lap up the mess."

Dirk tilts his head to allow Caliborn to lick into his mouth. Caliborn's forked tongue has only ever provided increased stimulation, with zero drawbacks as far as Dirk’s concerned, and Dirk feels his dick twitch when he thinks about just how well Caliborn's used his tongue in the past. He keeps up the kissing, and guides Caliborn's wrist to rest his palm across his crotch. Caliborn gropes him desperately, feeling out the shape of the shaft through his clothing and fantasizing about riding his cock.

With two fingertips, Dave draws down the scant amount of precome from one hemipenis and drags it across Caliborn's cloacal slit. It's still too dry; he pulls his hand back, despite Caliborn's frustrated whine, just long enough to spit sufficiently onto his fingers. He gets his fingers back on Caliborn's snake junk faster than he pulled them away, and slickens him up, rubbing at his cloaca with attentive fingertips. 

Caliborn bucks his hips.

"Holy fucking shit, look at you, fuckin' humping my hand and shit." Dave bites at Caliborn's neck again, which earns him a deep groan. "You're gonna come so hard for me it's gonna be like you're wandering in a goddamn intersection and don't know what hit you." He frots his dick against Caliborn's ass, through their clothing, and Caliborn vocalizes something nonverbal. "You're gonna fuckin' wanna get your fine self good and acquainted with my own trouser snake."

"We've met," Caliborn laughs, breathless. He closes his eyes, his lips parted, and offers his mouth to Dirk for extra kissing. "Dave, _get me off_."

Dave bites at Caliborn's shoulder and flicks his fingers across Caliborn's hemipenes as quickly as he can go, slipping wetly between them and around them, until Caliborn's moaning into Dirk's mouth, his thighs quivering, semen dribbling thickly onto Dave's fingers. Caliborn has hardly finished coming before Dave's lifting his hand to his mouth and licking his fingertips clean.

Caliborn turns awkwardly on the couch, in Dave's lap, and throws his arms over Dave's shoulders, kissing him with as much fervor as he's been kissing Dirk. Once he's over the slight surprise, Dave kisses him back, and eases him down until Caliborn's got his back against Dirk's chest, with Dirk's arms around his waist, with Dave letting him taste the traces of his own ejaculate.

Dirk presses a kiss to the top of Caliborn's head and looks to Karkat, who's long since abandoned any pretense of watching _Labyrinth_ and is now sitting with the heel of his palm pressing into his bulge, where it's slid out inside his pants.

Karkat's eyes are half-lidded as he stares openly at Dave and Caliborn. Dirk smiles with teeth.

"What're you thinking, Karkat?" Dirk asks. "Are you 'starved and near exhausted'?"

Karkat stills his hand and narrows his eyes at Dirk. "What are you getting at?"

Dirk nods his head towards the TV, where the credits are rolling. "You wanna dance a magic dance? Get somebody to live inside you?"

Caliborn runs his fingers through Dave's hair as they make out. Dave turns his head away long enough to remove his shades and set them on the floor, which isn't necessarily the safest place, but they're getting in the goddamn way.

"Is that supposed to be sexual?" Karkat sneers, pausing the DVD on the credits, so the menu doesn’t start looping any obnoxious sound clips. "That's all you've got, is repeating fucking song lyrics back at me as if they're inherently double entendres?"

Dave lets his weight drop on top of Caliborn, pushing him down into the cushion, until Dirk has to shift out of the way entirely.

"I'unno. You tell me." Dirk slips his hand into his pajama pants and gets it around his dick. "He literally uses the phrase 'love injection,' so I don't feel like I'm twisting many words, here."

Caliborn wraps his legs around Dave's waist. He moves his hands down to grope at Dave's ass and press him forward, to frot against him through their clothing.

"Words aren't the only thing you're twisting, Strider." Karkat shoves his pants down on his hips to expose his bulge to the air, and lets the tip of it curl around his fingers.

Caliborn holds Dave's hips in place as he lifts his own. His breathing is erratic; the more Dave sucks at his neck, the harder he rubs against him.

Dirk's laughter is sharp. "What does that even mean? Is that a bone bulge joke?" He pumps his dick several times and watches Karkat do the same thing. It's tough not to also watch Caliborn and Dave grinding against each other, which is even hotter in person than he ever could've imagined.

Dave holds his weight off Caliborn and yanks his own pants down past his ass, while Caliborn shifts awkwardly in an effort to take his off completely.

Karkat runs his hand along the full length of his bulge until there's enough genetic material to merit lifting his fingers to his mouth. He licks at his fingertips, eyes locked on Dirk's. "Who's joking?"

Once Caliborn's freed of his pants, Dave settles down on top of him again, one hand on his dick, to slide it against Caliborn's cloaca, externally. There's some friction; Dave spits into his hand, coats his dick, and tries again with greater success.

Dirk takes a moment to watch Dave's dick in action, to watch Caliborn's expression when Dave frots between his hemipenes. Their faces are flushed. Dirk has a _really_ nice view, and tugs at his cock, idly moving the foreskin back and forth. He replies without lifting his gaze from the scene. "Are you not entertained, Karkat?"

Caliborn lifts his legs higher, his back pressed down into the futon mattress, his crotch pressed tightly to Dave's. "Dave, Dave, holy shit." He rubs at Dave's back, at the softness of his shirt, and tilts his head backward until it's pushing into Dirk's thigh. "Dave, _please!_ "

Karkat snaps. "Would you just fucking go down on him already? For fuck's sake." 

"Well damn, Karkat." Dave interrupts the thought to kiss Caliborn on the mouth, lewd and lingering. He pulls away after a moment to speak back over his shoulder. "You're gonna grant my fuckin' wish just like that? No catch?"

Karkat reaches out to grope at Dave's ass, squeezing it firmly through his pajamas. "I'm gonna steal your brother."

Dave laughs. "Take him away, then. Take him all the way."

Dirk licks his lips. "I can show you a good time, Karkat. Don't charge nothin' at all."

"If you don't fucking stop quoting the movie, I'm not going to fuck you," Karkat warns. “You barely even watched it!”

Dirk sticks his tongue out at him.

" _Dave_ ," Caliborn begs. " _Fuck_ , dude, _please!_ "

Dave kisses Caliborn one more time before pulling off him completely and abandoning the couch to kneel in front of it. "Ahlly'yoop for the slam-dunk."

Karkat rolls his eyes again. "You're trying to seduce him with your fucking comic?"

"He loves comics." Dave waits for Caliborn to sit up, and then runs his palms up along Caliborn's thighs, spreading them wide apart. "And he's already seduced, yo."

Caliborn sinks down, pushing himself closer to Dave's face until he can feel Dave's breath on his skin. "I'm seduced. You did it. You win." He lifts his legs to rest his feet over Dave's shoulders, his metal calf resting smoothly on Dave's back, his organic toes braced on Dave's shirt. 

"I got nothin' except more SBAHJ jokes, so I'll spare you."

"You're a merciful man, Dave," Dirk remarks. "If only we could all be so wise."

Dave flips him off, his thumb digging into Caliborn's ass and his middle finger curved against his skin. Caliborn settles in against Dirk, who's there to wrap an arm over his shoulder, petting reassuringly along his chest where his god tier shirt is still hiked up. Caliborn stares at Dave as he dips his head towards his crotch, his tongue wet and soft as it laps over his cloaca. Face flushed, Caliborn runs his fingers through Dave's hair and urges him closer, until Dave's licking along the underside of his cloacal flap and pushing his tongue inside him.

[ ](http://41.media.tumblr.com/d872442e4617ff8a7fdc01d3b1b9670c/tumblr_nsskfdiHco1s5at38o2_r3_1280.jpg)

"You got a lot of practice on Karkat, huh?" Dirk jacks off while he watches, his attention fixed on the same thing as Caliborn, although Dirk's able to keep his eyes slightly more open. With the way Dave's buried his lips against Caliborn's vent, Dirk's not surprised that his boyfriend's struggling to keep his hips still.

Karkat watches all three of them as he lifts his hips towards his hand, his fingers gliding up and down his glistening bulge. "He does get a fuckload of practice on me," he confirms. "He sets fucking timers and keeps track of his high score."

Caliborn snorts. "How do you even track that?" he asks, petting the top of Dave's head as Dave teases his tongue against him. "Did you stat it out somehow? Some fucking bullshit?"

"The points are made up and don't matter," Karkat insists. "The thing that matters, here, that's relevant to you, is that Dave can go down on me for an hour or more if he wants."

"With some breaks, I'm guessing." Dirk kisses the side of Caliborn's face, just behind his cheekbone and next to his ear. "Fuck, dude. I never get to see you like this. I'm always too fuckin' busy doing the work." 

Caliborn turns his face towards Dirk and kisses at the corner of his mouth, eager for the attention. "His tongue feels so fucking good." Caliborn shudders as Dave takes one of his hemipenes into his mouth, suckling at it to prove Caliborn's point. He presses back against the cushion of the futon, head tilted, eyes closed. "You're missing out."

“Am I?” Dirk asks, against Caliborn’s ear. He glances at Dave with his peripheral vision. “I guess I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

Dave lifts his gaze to meet Dirk’s eyes, and slurps loudly between Caliborn’s legs. Caliborn’s thighs shiver; he braces his heels on Dave’s shoulders and pushes closer to his mouth. Dave’s eyes stay locked with Dirk’s as he moves his right hand away from Caliborn’s ass and runs it up along Dirk’s leg, from his knee to his inner thigh.

Dave makes exaggerated, filthy sucking sounds on Caliborn’s hemipenis, and pulls off to lick across it. He closes his eyes halfway and stares at Dirk while he circles his tongue on Caliborn.

To his credit, Dirk’s caught off guard, and laughs. “Wow, goddamn.”

“You should see him when he goes down on me,” Karkat offers, as he shifts on the futon to sit closer to all three of them. He continues touching his bulge, and it doesn’t escape his notice that Caliborn immediately becomes fixated with the movements of his fingers and the wet slide of genetic material. “Sometimes I can’t even fucking believe…”

Karkat trails off when he also notices that Caliborn is squirming, with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, and that he’s stopped watching what Dave is doing is doing in order to stare, unabashed, at Karkat’s bulge and nook.

Caliborn runs his tongue over his teeth. “Karkat.”

“Uh.” He stills his hand, self-conscious. “Yeah?”

Dave’s lapping slows, and Dirk keeps his hand in a loose fist around his dick.

Caliborn sets his right hand on the slight space between them on the futon, the edge of his hand landing just shy of Karkat’s thigh. “I want to know what you taste like.” 

“Oh. Well, then.” Karkat clears his throat, and leans over to move his mouth within kissing distance. “I mean. Go for it.”

Caliborn leans in, too, and catches Karkat’s bottom lip between his teeth, which are slightly blunter than Karkat’s own. He lets go, and speaks against Karkat’s mouth. “Not what I meant.”

“ _Oh._ Oh, shit.” Karkat looks at Dave, who’s idly licking at Caliborn and fondling Dirk’s thigh, and then to Dirk, who’s watching the scene unfold, and finally back to Caliborn. “So, you want me to just… let you sort of…?”

“Yeah, if that’s cool.” Caliborn reaches over to tentatively set his palm against Karkat’s thigh, where his skin meets the hem of his pants where he’s tugged them down. “If you just stand up, then I can—” He cuts himself off as he lets out a moan, as Dave slides a spit-slick finger into his cloaca and suckles at him. “Oh fuck, _Dave_ , fuck me!”

Dirk runs his fingernails lightly across Caliborn’s chest, where his god tier shirt is still pushed out of the way, his other hand resuming its pace as he jacks off. “Look at you, getting it from all sides.”

Dave speeds up his fingerfucking and runs his tongue in circles around Caliborn’s hemipenis. The other one is going without as much attention, but it’s the one Caliborn ejaculated from when Dave gave him a handjob, so he’s not sure if he can come again from that side, or what. It seems like a good use of his time to just focus on one, anyway, so he keeps up the pace and watches as Caliborn reaches for Karkat.

Karkat, in turn, stands up on the futon and rests his hand on the back of it, to keep his balance. If not for the others weighing down the front of the futon, he'd be worried it might topple backward, but it seems stable enough for now. His pants are in the way, though; he steps out of them, one leg at a time, and tosses them to the floor. 

“Okay,” Karkat says, his bulge writhing for stimulation, inches from Caliborn’s face. “Go ahead.”

Caliborn runs his hands up along Karkat’s thighs before settling on his hips. He closes his eyes and licks at him with his long, forked tongue, from the wet slit of his nook all the way upward to the tip of his bulge. Karkat shudders; his claws dig into the futon mattress as he braces his weight. He’s not used to being the tallest person in the room, and it gives him an _interesting_ viewpoint, to say the least, as he looks down at Dirk touching himself and Dave giving Caliborn the most excellent head Karkat’s ever witnessed, apart from Dave going down on Karkat himself. Then again, Karkat’s biased.

Caliborn busies himself with giving Karkat head, and keeps his eyes closed as he laps away the genetic material dripping from his nook and from his bulge, until his black tongue is coated with red, until he’s desperate to taste more. Urgently, he tips his head back and nudges between Karkat’s thighs to slip his tongue up inside his nook, so close that genetic material is threatening to get into his nose, his tongue teasing and twisting far enough inside to prod at his seedflap. It’s a strange feeling, and a spot that isn’t supposed to be accessible to anything other than a bulge; Karkat brings his free hand up to pet at the back of Caliborn’s head to encourage him. Cherub tongues are close enough to approximate the movements of a bulge, and don’t incur the discomfort of Dave thrusting too hard, and Karkat finds himself wondering how he’s gone so long without experiencing this.

“Jesus.” Dirk lets out a breathy sigh and bites his own lip, his hand working faster, precome welling at the head of his dick.

Dave pulls his mouth off Caliborn entirely and speaks for the first time in a while. “For real, Jesus fuck, dude.” He squeezes at Dirk’s thigh, and keeps his other hand where it was already, fingering Caliborn’s cloaca. “I’ve been fuckin’ watching this whole time and goddamn, I’ve never seen anybody eating a nook this good. I wish I had a nook just so I could fuckin’ feel that. God.”

Pleased with the praise, Caliborn digs his claws into Karkat’s hips and pulls his tongue out to slide wetly across the lips of his nook and up, to wrap its length around his bulge and clear away the genetic material that’s gathered there. He continues licking, from base to tip, until he’s established a rhythm he’s comfortable with. Karkat starts panting, Dirk continues masturbating, and Dave resumes his efforts to lick and suck at Caliborn. His hand is getting tired, so he keeps two fingers slid up inside Caliborn’s cloaca, curled back to coax at him, his lips sealed around one of his hemipenes. 

Throughout his own licking, Caliborn lets out an escalating series of moans, his tongue trailing over Karkat’s bulge and through the slickness of his nook, tasting and testing him, grateful to have him so close. Dirk shifts to press closer to his boyfriend, his dick angled towards Caliborn’s hip, his head ducked to Caliborn’s shoulder as he strokes himself.

Dave resumes his thrusting of his fingers and starts up quick, flicking motions with his tongue, and Caliborn’s gut clenches as he pulses his orgasm into Dave’s mouth. He continues his own lapping at Karkat until he’s struggling for air and has no choice but to pull off and moan something approximating Dave’s name, the sound drawn out and shuddering. Shakily he moves his hands from Karkat’s hips to Dave’s head, once again, his claws combing through Dave’s hair as he gasps breathless sounds of praise.

Smirking, Dave swallows Caliborn’s jizz, and makes a show of licking it off his lips.

Caliborn slumps against Dirk’s side, utterly exhausted, and Dirk tightens his one-armed hug around Caliborn’s shoulders. He presses a solid kiss to the top of Caliborn’s head, his other hand still wrapped around his dick.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he murmurs. “I fucking love you.”

Caliborn nuzzles against Dirk’s chest and draws his legs up onto the futon, post-orgasmic and sated, his appreciative smile aimed at Dave. Dave kisses Caliborn’s knee.

“All right, that’s it,” Karkat announces. “Dave, take off your pants.”

“Roger that, Captain Vantas.” He shoves his pants down and lets himself collapse heavily onto the floor, on his back, careful to avoid his shades. “Something something, full mast, boners, whatever.”

With his turtleneck still on and naked from the waist down, Karkat straddles Dave and grabs for the base of his dick, holding him still and guiding him up inside his nook. Dave inhales through his nose and lets his breath out through his mouth. Karkat, on the other hand, says nothing and does nothing but fix his gaze on Dirk.

“Have you ever fucked a troll, Dirk?” he asks.

Dirk pets Caliborn’s head and smirks at Karkat. “Why do you ask?”

Karkat nearly snarls. He lifts his hips up and slams back down onto Dave, who rubs his palms on top of Karkat’s thighs. “I don’t think you’d know what the fuck to do with a nook.”

[ ](https://78.media.tumblr.com/fa03b1325a06ad3054014de78aaac568/tumblr_nsskfdiHco1s5at38o3_r3_1280.jpg)

“You could give me a chance.” He slides his side-hug down to embrace Caliborn more loosely around his shoulder. “I’m a fast learner.”

“No, Dave's got my nook covered.” Karkat rolls his hips forward.

Dave tilts his head back to the floor and smiles, exhaling slowly through his nose. “I will have it ‘covered’ in like ten seconds if you keep that up.”

Karkat’s expression changes radically, from flirt-glaring at Dirk to smiling fondly at Dave. He leans over to kiss Dave, bringing his chest down flush to Dave's, both pantless but still clothed on top, and raising his hips before rocking back down. 

Dave squeezes at Karkat's thighs. Caliborn squeezes at Dirk's knee. Dirk squeezes at his dick, and at Caliborn’s shoulder.

“I guess you don't need me then, after all,” Dirk notes. “Let me know if you _do_ need my help. I'm good at getting shit done.”

“You're going to do my ass, is what.”

Dirk laughs. “Oh, is that so?” He runs his tongue over his upper lip while Karkat watches, his hand busily jerking on his cock. “I think I could be persuaded.”

Caliborn curls his arm around Dirk’s waist and hugs him, sleepy. Dirk kisses the top of his head again.

Dave moans, and thrusts upward to meet Karkat’s efforts. “Oh fuck, dude, you’re so fucking wet.”

“I just got head, if you somehow forgot.” Karkat kisses Dave quickly before he lifts his head to leer at Dirk. “So I’m looking to get fucked.”

“I _am_ fucking you,” Dave notes. “Fuck, you feel good.”

Dirk continues to stroke his dick, and wags his eyebrows at Karkat. “Don’t you feel selfish, man? You’re getting to double dip in Strider excellence. Don’t you feel greedy?”

Dave moans even louder, his hands on Karkat’s hips, holding him steady as they rock against one another. Caliborn takes this opportunity to get up from the couch and wander off into another room. Dirk watches him as he leaves, but quickly turns his gaze back to Karkat.

“I don’t know what _greed’s_ got to do with it,” Karkat notes. He lifts his hips, slamming down onto Dave rhythmically, although his tempo is distracted by Dirk. “This is an experience for all of us, isn’t it?”

Dirk shrugs. He lifts his hand to his mouth and licks at his thumb before returning to stroking his cock. “I dunno. Is this one for the scrapbooks?”

“Do you not consider this noteworthy?” Karkat slams his hips downward; Dave cries out and thrusts upward, in turn, even though his position on the floor leaves much to be desired in terms of leverage. 

Dirk gives Karkat a noncommittal look.

“Take some fuckin’ notes!” Dave laughs and quotes his own joke. “Jesus, get a fucking pen!”

Karkat keeps himself pressed close to Dave’s pelvis, increasing his pace as Dave’s breathing becomes increasingly labored. He pets Dave’s bangs away from his face, and leans down to kiss him, although he’s preoccupied with Dirk’s ceaseless observation from his spot on the couch, his dick hard and angled at Karkat’s face.

Karkat’s locked once again in an intense staredown with Dirk when Dave’s fingers go tense on his thighs, gripping into his muscle. Dave's toes curl in his socks; his abs clench. Everything feels tight and wet and hot.

“I feel god in this Neoboard tonight,” Dave groans, gasping through the words and into a series of frantic vocalizations that accompany his orgasm. “Oh, _fuck_ , holy shit...!”

Karkat runs his fingers through Dave’s hair, affectionate and soothing as Dave shivers beneath him, still riding out his climax. “I am your god. Feel me.”

“I do, man. And I did.” He smiles up at Karkat, sated. “You gotta meet Dirk in the Battledome.”

Karkat caresses Dave’s face, smiling back at him, somewhat mystified by Dave’s commitment to this shit. “Neopets aren’t sexy.”

“Tell that to the Eyries and their bedroom eyes,” Dave counters. “No fuckin’ wonder that’s Davepeta’s favorite.”

“Aishas are obviously the best,” Dirk adds, sprawled on the futon now that he’s alone, his hand still moving idly on his dick. “They’re aliens, they’re hyperintelligent, and they’re fucking great at magic.”

“Oh, so you think they’re like you?” Karkat taunts.

“I am all three of those things, from your perspective.”

“Alien, sure.” Karkat quirks an eyebrow, skeptical. “Not sure about the other two qualifiers.”

Dirk slaps his own ass, at the curve of his hip, without breaking eye contact with Karkat. “That’s only because you haven’t seen my cutie mark yet. I am magical as a motherfucker.”

“Jury’s still out on ‘hyperintelligent,’ fucker.” 

Dave strains to look up at him on the couch. “Can I make a Hooloovoo joke?”

Dirk laughs. “Only if I blue myself.”

Dave turns his head to the side, so his bangs are once again draped across his face. “What if _I_ blow you?”

Dirk licks his lips, suddenly very aware of himself, and speaks without any of the pseudo-confrontation he’d been engaged in all night. “I think Karkat had other plans, but. Yeah. In general, yeah.”

Dave lets his eyes drift closed, just to rest them for a minute, and lets out a contented sigh.

Karkat lifts himself off Dave, his nook dripping with genetic material and semen. “Where’d Caliborn go?”

“Probably to clean up,” Dirk explains. It’s still strange to hear his name said out loud. “He’ll come back if he feels like it.”

Dave runs his palm up along Dirk’s calf, through his the fabric of his pajama pants. “What do _you_ feel like?”

“I’unno.” Dirk stops touching himself and sits up, leaning forward to offer his hand to Dave. “Did you have something in mind?”

Dave takes it, and shifts until he’s kneeling between Dirk’s shins. He lets his cheek rest on Dirk’s left knee and slides his hand over his right thigh, just shy of crossing the waistband where it’s pulled slightly down. He kisses Dirk’s leg, just above his knee, and rubs at his thigh for a while longer before gradually lifting his hand to bring a single fingertip upward to touch Dirk’s dick, in the middle of the shaft.

“Is this turning you on?” Dave asks.

“I am more aroused than I have ever been in my life,” Dirk says, solemnly. “I love having my dick poked.”

“I dunno whether to make a Facebook joke or to segue from the Neopets shit and make a Pokémon joke.”

“I would’ve gone with Gumby, personally.” Dirk runs his fingers through Dave’s hair, the same way he saw Karkat doing it, to brush his bangs out of his face. Obviously there’s something Dave likes about that, if it’s Karkat’s go-to hair petting. “Or _Earthbound_ , maybe. But it’s all good.”

“ _You’re_ all good,” Karkat says, from the floor. “Both of you.”

“Shhh, man,” Dirk cautions. “We’re supposed to be fighting.”

Karkat grins at him, genuinely. “Yeah. Right.”

Caliborn comes back from what was presumably a trip to the bathroom and/or his and Dirk’s bedroom, carrying several freshly alchemized white towels and a bottle of lubricant. He’s wearing a SBAHJ shirt and pajama pants that have two large billiard balls on the asscheeks and a cascading pattern of smuppets everywhere else. Dave had been kind enough to alchemize that mess for him, and with how fucking soft they turned out, they’ve been his second-favorite pair since, just behind the copies Gamzee courteously made of his own, for their household’s enjoyment. He’d considered it a housewarming gift, when they’d moved into the new place. 

Why he’d gotten them all the exact same thing, none of them were entirely sure. Caliborn, however, suspects he might know the reason.

The smuppet plushes with billiard balls for their actual asscheeks had been a side effect that garnered a mixed response.

“Here,” Caliborn says, pressing the bottle of lube into Dirk’s hands and leaning down -- albeit not very far, given his height -- to kiss Dirk, as he rounds the corner of the futon. “Thought you could use these.”

Dirk holds the bottle of lube aloft to gesture to Karkat with it. “It seems we’re gonna. Thanks, bro.”

Caliborn gives him a thumbs up (an indecent gesture) and sits back down on the couch, cozy. “Who’s fucking next, then?”

“You gonna make popcorn?” Dave asks, his head still in Dirk’s lap. “I could fuckin’ go for some motherfucking popcorn.”

“I wasn’t,” Caliborn says, “but now I’m thinking about it.”

Dave pulls away from Dirk’s knee and stretches his arms over his head. “Mmmm, I gotta... put on pants, I guess? Maybe.” He stands up, reluctant to move on wobbly post-coital legs, and stretches again. “Fuck, that was a good fuck.”

Caliborn hands Karkat a towel. Karkat lays it on the floor and sits on it, his genetic material instantly soaking into it and spreading pinkish-red into the fibers of the cloth.

Dirk kicks off his smippers (smuppet slippers) and gets up from the futon, lube in hand, and sits at the edge of the towel, in front of Karkat. He turns his head to glance at Dave. “Hey, you wanna watch this?”

Dave smiles at all three of them: Karkat, naked from the waist down but still wearing a damn sweater; Dirk, wearing pony merchandise that just plain isn’t manufactured in his size; Caliborn, looking awfully fucking cozy in PJs. “You don’t gotta wait for me. I’m gonna wash up and come back, like my dude over there.” He inclines his head towards Caliborn. “Maybe make some popcorn for y’all. Get some Gatorade. Get the fuckin’ electrolytes that we’re all craving.”

“Okay. Go for it,” says Karkat, nodding to him, his eyes lingering on Dave’s back as he walks away and down the hall. “So, uh.”

Dirk’s posture is relaxed, open, with his dick returning to flaccid from their interlude. “So.”

“ _So_ , I have an offer for you.”

Dirk tilts his head, intrigued. “Yeah?”

“If you fuck my ass, I’ll watch any movie you want with you, and I promise to actively listen while you rip its narrative structure apart.”

“Really?” Dirk brightens. “Well, not like this has gotta be quid pro quo or anything, but.”

Karkat glances away. “I just... need an excuse to hang out with you.”

Dirk takes his shades off and sets them down next to Dave’s, on the floor, before thinking better of it and taking both pairs and setting them on the couch. Caliborn watches him, and scoots the shades over further so he can make sure nobody sits on them.

“That sounds good to me,” Dirk says, looking at Karkat with his eyes uncovered for what _might_ be the first time.

Karkat feels his bloodpusher do something funny in his chest. “Okay. Cool.”

Dirk shifts until he’s kneeling, his ass resting on his heels, and puts his hands on his thighs. He’s still clothed, with his dick now awkwardly tugged tight against his stomach by the waistband of his pajamas. “Where’d we leave off?”

Karkat reaches up to scratch his claws through his hair, next to one of his horns, until the vibrations he’s creating are enough of a distraction to demand that he clear his head. “I was going to insult you until you proved... something.”

“Mhm.” Dirk sits still, a counterpoint to Karkat’s fidgeting, and watches the movements of Karkat’s hands. “Then what?”

Karkat meets his eyes briefly, then glances away to scrutinize the snacks on their kitchen countertop that could all use some bag clips. “Then you get on top of me.”

Dirk tentatively reaches out with one hand, his arm low, his palm upturned, in the middle of the towel. “Then you should know that I’m completely offended by your hypothetical statement, and ready to assert myself as the ultimate whatever.”

Karkat hesitates, then takes his hand, his golden-yellow claws a bright, bold spot in the center of Dirk’s palm. “Yeah. I am so pissed off right now. My furor cannot be contained by my mortal body.”

“I got you,” Dirk says, his expression inviting and approachable. “You’re as impulsively aggressive as someone in YouTube comments.”

“You bet your puppet-fucking ass, I am.”

“My ass isn’t usually what I’m fucking puppets with,” Dirk counters, deadpan. “I can give you a demonstration sometime.”

“I think you’re lying to me.”

“What if I am?”

“Then my understanding is that you should have pants that are on fire,” Caliborn adds, from the couch, as he watches them feign an argument. “Or at least off.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Dirk agrees. He nods to Karkat, as a challenge. “Hit me with another truth bomb.”

Karkat fusses with the hem of his sweater, his other hand still holding Dirk’s, his palm sweating where Dirk’s is cool and dry. “I want to kiss you.”

Dirk’s eyes go a bit wider for a fraction of a second, before he laughs, embarrassed. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. You can do that.”

Karkat lets go of Dirk’s hand and crawls forward on the towel to kneel closer to him. His already unruly hair is damp with sweat, curled and tangled around his horns and his ears. With the same caution he’d use if foolishly approaching some kind of Alternian wildlife, Karkat leans in, his eyelids gradually closing over his yellow sclera, over irises that no longer hide his spot outside of the hemospectrum, that damn near match Dave’s and Caliborn’s.

Dirk keeps his hands resting on his own thighs as Karkat lifts a hand to thread his fingers through Dirk’s hair, at the back of his head. There’s hesitation running through every action Karkat takes, as if he’s in some imperial museum and a guardevastator just gave him a go-ahead to touch the permanent collection, and he can’t quite trust that he’s actually allowed to do so without some alarm going off. But Dirk’s breathing is still even, still relaxed, and Karkat wills himself to just sort of _get over it_ and kisses him.

Caliborn takes in a sharp breath, as if he was watching a suspenseful moment in a movie. Karkat would think the assessment was fairly accurate, even in real life; but then, they’re both inclined towards theatrics.

It’s when Karkat takes Dirk’s bottom lip between his teeth, and Dirk lets out a pleasured sigh, that Karkat finally convinces himself that he hasn’t screwed up this one, for once.

“This is weirder to comment on in person,” Caliborn says, “but this is hot to watch. Just throwing that out there.”

Dirk looks at him, with Karkat’s fingers in his hair and Karkat’s saliva on his lips, and he smiles. “It’s hot that you’re watching.”

Caliborn shrugs, amused. “It’s what I do.”

With his eyes on Caliborn, Dirk returns the favor to Karkat and bites at his lip, too, then runs his tongue over his own upper lip, suggestively. Caliborn clenches his thighs together.

“Not only do you know nothing about nooks...” Karkat goads, looking at Dirk, whose face is awfully close to his. He keeps one hand in his hair while taking Dirk’s hand back into his free one and guiding it up to his chest. “But I bet you wouldn’t know what to do with rumblespheres, either.”

Dirk gets an ample handful of rumblesphere under his palm and squeezes. “Betcha I would, if you take your sweater off.”

Karkat growls, but they both know it’s a put-on. “Fine. You get a trial run. Let’s watch you fuck this up.”

He pulls his sweater up to bunch at his collarbone, and Dirk lowers his head to Karkat’s chest as soon as his skin is revealed. With one hand he rubs at one of Karkat’s grubscars, while ducking his lips to Karkat’s nipple and sucking it into his mouth as it stiffens. They both moan, and Karkat gets his hands into Dirk’s hair again, holding his head close.

“Hot damn,” Dave says, whistling. “I came back at the right time.” 

All three of them look up at Dave, who tosses a generic, smooth vibrator onto the futon, between the pairs of shades and the bottle of lube. 

“In case anybody needs one,” he explains.

Caliborn eyes it, considering.

“So anyway, who’s in for popcorn?” he asks.

Caliborn raises his hand. “Me.”

Dirk runs his tongue flatly over Karkat’s rumblesphere and shrugs. “Maybe when my mouth isn’t occupied.”

Karkat licks his lips, and glances down to the genetic material trailing down his inner thighs, despite his bulge having retracted during their collective downtime. “I’ll take some water.”

“Got it. Comin’ right up. Right after you two come, probably.”

“No need to rush,” Dirk adds, his breath hot on Karkat’s skin. He digs his fingertips into Karkat’s grubscar and massages it, his other hand still holding his chest tightly, to keep him in place so he can lick on him easily. Dirk’s erection pokes out above the waistband of his pajamas; there’s a thin strand of precome stringing stickily between his stomach and the tip of his cock.

Dirk suckles at him until Karkat’s bulge is slipping back out of its sheath, finally unfurled again in one slick, fluid motion. It writhes, seeking something to grasp onto, and Dirk moves his hand down from Karkat’s ribs to tangle with it, rubbing the twisting tip between his thumb and fingers. Karkat moans again, louder, and Dirk makes pleased noises while working him over with his tongue and touch.

“What the fuck, guys,” Caliborn comments. “This is unbelievably fucking hot.”

“Believe it!” Dave quotes, gesturing like Naruto from his spot in the kitchen, and noisily dealing with unwrapping packaging. There’s a series of beeps, and then a low hum as the microwave begins to rotate the popcorn bag. A cabinet opens; glasses clink; the sink turns on, then off. He walks back over to the couch and offers the glass to Karkat, after taking a sip for himself.

Flustered, Karkat takes the glass from him and chugs it. Dirk doesn’t stop teasing his bulge while he does so. He sighs when he’s done, refreshed, and lets Dave take the glass back from him. “Thanks.”

“I see you’re still thirsty,” Dave jokes.

Karkat gives him a _look_ , but his expression changes when Dirk pulls back to flick the tip of his tongue across his nipple, for the visual enjoyment of everyone. “Ahhh, fuck.”

“Maybe you should lie down,” Caliborn suggests. “Just a pro tip for you, bro.”

“Yeah,” Dave seconds. “That dude knows how to go down.”

Karkat fixes his gaze on the two of them, to make eye contact with them one at a time. It’s a heady feeling to be watched, especially with four people involved, but Karkat’s glad that at least this time, being the center of attention is a positive thing and there’s nothing that he’s done to ruin a game session or fuck up anyone’s plans. 

For a fraction of a second, he wonders if this is something akin to how it feels to have all of your quadrants occupied, but then brushes the thought aside. They aren’t trolls. It doesn’t fucking matter, and for once, he doesn’t have to worry about it. Maybe not ever again.

“Yeah, I will.” Karkat runs his fingers through Dirk’s hair several more times before taking his hands off him entirely. “If you’re on board, Dirk.”

“I am... below? The board.” Dirk kisses down from Karkat’s rumblesphere, until he’s hovering just above his bulge. “Or maybe board certified. I don’t have a good pun for this one.”

“ _Bored of Canada_ ,” Dave offers.

Dirk laughs. “Sure.”

Karkat leans back until he’s lying on the floor. He frowns up at the ceiling, and is about to complain about having nothing to pad his skull when Caliborn leans over to offer him an extra towel, in lieu of a pillow. “Oh. Thanks.”

“There are so fucking many more of those where that came from,” Caliborn says. “Dirk alchemized too many.”

“Or just enough?” Dirk settles himself between Karkat’s thighs and rubs his hand over Karkat’s stomach. “We definitely go through them.”

Dave picks his shades back up off the couch and puts them on. “We’re about to go through like twelve more if the head you give Karkat is anywhere close to the head you gave me.”

Dirk slides his hands down to massage at Karkat’s thighs in smooth, sweeping motions, just shy of nearing his bulge. “I aim to exceed expectations.”

Caliborn picks up Dirk’s shades and puts them on his own face. Without having external ears, it’s tricky to get them to stay on; he holds the temples still and watches Dirk and Karkat for a minute. “Dave and I will rank your performance.”

Karkat scowls. “Don’t I get to rank it?”

“You can leave a review of your experience at any time,” Dave explains. “We’re handling the spectator portion.”

“Emphasis on the _handling_.” Caliborn sets Dirk’s shades on the futon, far enough away that he won’t accidentally crush them, giving himself space to scoot back next to Dave. 

The microwave starts beeping. 

“Here.” Dave picks up the lube and the vibrator and sets them in Caliborn’s lap, then gets up from the couch to address the snack situation.

“Is this a suggestion?” Caliborn calls after him.

“If you want it to be!”

Dirk keeps one hand on Karkat’s hip and uses the other to curl around the base of his bulge, to hold it still as he guides its undulating tip into his mouth. Karkat’s breathing gets rougher, and he makes some sort of chittering noise that Dirk recalls from somewhere back in his brain, from another timeline he can only remember clearly when he’s not fixating on trying to bring it into his conscious mind. He slips his mouth down further, taking him in, sucking on the widely flared, squishing bulk of his bulge and keeping his tongue pressed tight to the underside of it.

He hears the clack of a cap, a click of a button, and the buzzing of the vibrator as it’s turned on. From the corner of his eye he can see Caliborn moving the toy within his pants, his gaze fixed on Dirk as he sucks Karkat off. Caliborn lets his tongue hang out of his mouth, to continuously taste the scent of sex in the air.

The scent of butter and salt—instead of just sweat—catches up with him as Dave returns, a giant serving bowl in hand, steam rising off the heaped popcorn.

“I see you’re getting busy,” Dave says, as he sits down heavily on the futon. “I will take it upon myself to feed you.”

Caliborn presses the vibrator snugly between his hemipenes and takes in a deep breath, before letting it back out, slowly. “You’re my hero.”

“This shit is heroic,” Dave says, gesturing towards Dirk with a piece of popcorn. “Let’s hope Dirk doesn’t fuckin’ bite it, mid-fuck.”

“There’s several reasons none of us want Dirk to bite it, mid-fuck.” Caliborn turns his head so Dave can feed him the popcorn.

Dave prods it between Caliborn’s teeth and grabs a handful of popcorn for himself. “We’re like Statler and Waldorf up here.”

“Right, yeah. _The Smuppet Show._ ” Caliborn accepts another few pieces of popcorn and barely chews them before swallowing. His teeth aren’t really made for it. “Let’s heckle them.”

“Heck, I’m ill already.”

Caliborn gives him a puzzled look. “What?”

“Dude, look at Dirk go, though.”

And Dirk is going, with his eyes closed, his fingertips pressed tightly into the soft give of Karkat’s hips and his thumbs against the powerful muscles of his thighs. There’s saliva drooling out of his mouth to combine with the consistent swell of genetic material that runs down Karkat’s bulge and out of his nook, down his thighs and onto the towel. Karkat has sweat appropriately right through his sweater, and Dirk’s pony camisole isn’t faring much better.

It’s so much like what Karkat had imagined it would feel like, with Dave’s shades on his face, playing back footage of Dirk’s head between Dave’s thighs, back on the roof. The sounds alone were enough to easily convince him to touch himself, and even though he knows Dirk knows it’s all been shared, that this was the point of the recording all along, it’s tough to admit to him in person how significant of an impact it’d had on him, alone in his block with idle hands.

At long last, Dirk pulls off, with pinkish spit wetting his lips. He takes a moment to stretch his jaw, then looks at Karkat, who’s staring back at him with flushed skin and wide pupils.

“Fuck,” Karkat says, and maybe that’s all there is to say on the matter.

Dirk smiles, laughs under his breath, and lies back down between Karkat’s thighs to press his lips to his nook. He’s halfway through licking a combination of Karkat’s genetic material and Dave’s jizz out of him before Karkat makes a move to roll over.

“You good?” Dirk asks, voice hoarse.

“Yeah,” Karkat assures him, with his hands braced on the floor and his knees spread apart. “Now fuck me.”

“All right.” Dirk squeezes at Karkat’s ass and gives him two light pats on the hip before he turns to Dave and Caliborn, who look wildly entertained. “Can you guys pass me the lube?”

Caliborn grabs the bottle and clicks the lid open, then offers it to Dirk. “You want any popcorn?”

Dirk hesitates, and initially seems like he’s about to decline, then reconsiders. “Yeah, actually.”

Dave reaches out to give some to Dirk, with his palm offered upward and flat. Dirk takes the hint and eats it from his hand, like a goddamn horse. 

Dave grins. “Karkat, you want any?”

Karkat shakes his head, his hair messy and hanging down in front of his eyes. “After we’re done.”

Dirk chews the popcorn while pouring lube onto his fingers, and circles Karkat’s asshole with his fingertip for a long while without any attempts to push inside. “Tell me if anything hurts.”

“You’re fine,” Karkat insists. He puts his weight onto his forearms, hands in fists, wrists laid flat on the floor. “I will.”

Dirk gently slides one finger inside Karkat, who tenses at first but quickly pushes back towards him, ass raised for access. He fingers him slowly, occasionally pulling back to add more lube and ensure that he’s thoroughly slicked up, and is about to try to add a second finger when Karkat shakes his head.

“More than one feels weird.” He looks back at Dirk over his shoulder. “Your knuckles are too bony.”

“You want extra lube, then?”

“Just put some on your dick and it’ll be fine.”

Dirk pets along Karkat’s lower back with the hand that _isn’t_ covered in lube. “I’ll get a condom.”

“You don’t have to.” Karkat glances back. “Not unless you want one.”

He hesitates, and looks between Karkat and Dave. “Have you guys run into any problems?”

Dave shakes his head, too. “Nope. We don’t have anything that’d be an issue, and even if Karkat did, troll stuff isn’t communicable to humans.”

“And I don’t, so. It’s a hygiene thing, if anything,” Karkat says. “It’s up to you.”

“You gonna shower with me afterwards?” Dirk kisses Karkat’s hip. “Since these guys already cleaned up.”

Although he’s not sure how much Dirk can see it, Karkat grins, maybe only to himself. “Yeah. I can make that happen.”

“There we go, then.” Dirk looks to Caliborn. “As long as you’re cool with this?”

He lifts his brows suggestively at him, with one hand still down his pants, holding the vibrator against himself. “I am very cool with this.”

“And before you ask,” Dave says, saluting him with buttery-salty fingers, “I’m on board.”

“Seems like it’s time for you to get on board _me_ ,” Karkat says. There’s a hint of anticipatory nervousness in his voice.

Dirk kisses his spine, at the small of his back. “You ready?”

“Yes.” Karkat shifts his weight. “Let’s do it.”

“Okay.” Dirk tugs his pajama pants down to slide them off himself, one leg at a time. He pours more lube into his palm and coats his dick with it, enough to leave extra at the head. With one hand resting against Karkat’s hip, he uses the other to angle himself towards Karkat’s ass, before the lube can drip to the floor.

It drips instead between his asscheeks, down towards his nook. It’s still colder than body temperature—either of theirs—and Karkat shudders as Dirk slowly teases the head of his cock against his asshole.

“Dirk. Oh my god.”

“You want me to—”

“I want you.”

Dirk feels his pulse in his dick, and slowly guides himself inside Karkat, until the head’s in.

“Oh, _fuck._ ” Karkat rests his face against the towel, against his arm. “Pull out, add more lube. Please.”

“Shit, sorry.” He does so, both to his cock and his fingertip, and glides the lubricant onto and inside Karkat’s asshole again before steadying himself, poised once more. “Want me to try now?”

“Yeah. Do it.”

Dirk gives it another go, and this time, he slides easily inside him; it takes all of his balance to steady himself and keep the movement smooth and steady, instead of sinking in too quickly.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he sighs. “You good? This okay?”

Karkat closes his eyes and settles his weight against the floor, legs spread. “Ohhh, my god.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Karkat nods and pushes his hips back towards Dirk, who pushes forward to situate himself completely within him. His balls press against the slickness of Karkat’s nook; Dirk takes a moment to take a deep breath to calm himself before he comes too quickly.

“Holy fuck, Karkat.” He pets at his hip, staring down to watch his dick slide into his ass as he begins to thrust. “I am not gonna last long.”

Karkat keeps one arm braced against the towel for balance, and uses his other to run his fingers over his bulge. “I don’t expect you to.”

Dirk inhales through his teeth. “Ah, are you sure? I can try to, uh..."

“I’m already close.” Karkat lifts his hand to cup his rumblesphere and pinch his nipple between the pads of his fingers. “Just fuck me, however you want.”

The buzzing of the vibrator intensifies. Dirk and Karkat glance back to the futon, where Dave and Caliborn are watching them, rapt. Dave’s half-hard in his boxers, popcorn on hold while he holds Caliborn, cuddling him close while he gets busy with the vibrator.

“He’s shooting for a third, I think,” Dave informs them. “Triangle, triangle, triangle.”

Caliborn nods to confirm this. “Do you guys want us to help?”

“Didn’t you two just wash up?” Dirk asks. “I mean, if you want, then yeah, I’m open to suggestions.”

“It is really hard to have a conversation about logistics while your dick is in my ass.” Karkat makes eye contact with Caliborn. “You ever have a bulge inside you?”

He doesn’t directly answer the question, and instead grins. “I’m game if you are.”

Dave stands up to put the popcorn bowl on the counter. “When are you _not_ game?” 

“I think you will find that my ‘being game’ is a universal constant, as well as an immutable fact that we are stating for the record.” Caliborn shoves his pajama pants down and off, and pulls the SBAHJ shirt over his head. His state of dress was short lived. “Anyway, let’s do it.”

Dirk strokes along Karkat’s back, up beneath the hem of his sweater, and keeps his hips as still as he can while they both wait for Caliborn to join them. Karkat splays his palms against the towel for leverage, and lifts himself up enough for Caliborn to get under him.

“I think this is probably how it is supposed to be,” Caliborn says, beaming up at Karkat, who’s panting. “The four of us. Because of narrative parallels.”

“Didn’t you hate trolls, or something?” Karkat lowers himself on top of him, and Caliborn presses his thighs around and against his waist, his legs positioned to be as out of Dirk’s way as he can be. “What’s up with that?”

“A few other immutable facts changed my mind.” He lifts his crotch up towards Karkat’s bulge, until its tip is seeking out the entrance to his vent. Karkat’s far slicker than he is, and the ample, aroused wetness of him makes it easy to push his hips upward and help his bulge slide into his cloaca, twisting into place. “This is, ah... This is helping to seal the deal.”

Karkat kisses him, his weight heavier than Dirk’s, his rumblespheres pressed to the slender flatness of Caliborn’s chest.

“I’m gonna keep going,” Dirk says, shakily, as he starts to thrust again, harder than before. 

Karkat groans against Caliborn’s mouth, and Caliborn winds his arms around his shoulders, mindful not to catch his claws on the sweater.

“Miss me?” Dave kneels behind Dirk and licks popcorn butter off his fingers before sliding his hand up Dirk’s too-tight cami to tease one of his nipples. “I give us, like, two minutes tops before this becomes a mess to maintain.”

“I might not even need that long,” Dirk sighs. “Karkat, I’m gonna, uh. I’m gonna go faster.”

Karkat breaks away from kissing Caliborn. “Dirk, just fuck my ass until you come, okay?”

“Yeah.” He moves his hips in shallow motions, steadying himself as he thrusts deep within Karkat, hardly pulling out at all as he rocks against him. “Yeah, okay.”

His efforts keep Karkat’s solid weight pressing down onto Caliborn, whose fingers have moved up to Karkat’s hair, to thread through it near his horns. Genetic material coats his cloaca, and helps keep his hemipenes slick as they slip against either side of Karkat’s sheath. 

“Lemme just get this in here real quick,” Dave says, as he reaches between Dirk’s legs to press the tip of the vibrator against Karkat’s nook lips. “Goddamn, I’m tired just from watching you all.”

“Oh my fucking god, none of you stop.” Karkat resumes kissing Caliborn, lets him move his tongue past his teeth, forked black against flat grey. He rocks his hips as hard as he can back towards Dirk’s cock, towards the high-speed buzzing of the vibrator, and then forward to pushing the writhing swell of his bulge into Caliborn’s vent.

Dirk closes his eyes, focused on Dave’s fingers on his chest, Dave’s arm awkwardly situated beneath his balls, and the lube-slick tightness of Karkat’s ass. Caliborn and Karkat moan into their makeout session, and that’s all it takes to push him over the edge, rocking himself just a few more times until his stomach muscles go taut, until he digs his fingertips into Karkat’s hips and feels himself pulsing through his orgasm.

Dave laughs affectionately and kisses Dirk’s shoulder blade, next to the cami strap. “Don’t pull out yet, dude.”

Dirk does not pull out, and instead keeps his hips flush to Karkat’s, his eyes still closed to enjoy the afterglow.

Dave teases the tip of the vibrator into the opening of Karkat’s nook, well aware that the chittering sounds he’s making are indicative of just how close he is. He teases it back towards the base of his bulge, then back again into his nook, just barely deeper this time.

Genetic material rushes out of his nook as his hips spasm, and Karkat comes hard, gasping for breath against Caliborn’s neck. Caliborn clenches his cloaca around his bulge and turns his head to take in the scent of his hair with a flick of his tongue, to brush his mouth against one of his horns. It doesn’t actually taste like candy, of course, but the shuddering reaction he gets from Karkat as he lies heavily on his chest is sweet enough as it is.

“Dave?” Caliborn calls, and Dave repositions himself to sit cross-legged on the floor beside them. He wedges the vibrator between Karkat’s stomach and Caliborn’s, and with a few seconds of the toy against his hemipenes on the highest setting, with Karkat’s bulge lazily curling within him, Caliborn comes for a third time from both sides, overstimulated. His long lashes settle against his cheeks as he closes his eyes.

Dirk finally does pull out, which sends his jizz dribbling down Karkat’s thighs to join his own genetic material, and whatever was left of Dave’s. Dave switches the vibrator off and sets it beside Caliborn’s hip, and moves to catch Dirk in a steadying hug.

Karkat does not pull out, and Caliborn lifts his legs to curl them securely around his waist, now that they have the space to do so. Karkat rests his head on Caliborn’s shoulder, and Caliborn exhales into his hair, basking in the moment.

“So I was thinking we could put on _The Man Who Fell to Earth_ , since that seems, y’know. Thematically relevant.” Dave kisses Dirk’s cheek, and Dirk turns his head to kiss him back, on the mouth.

“Or the one where Troll David Bowie is a rainbow drinker,” Karkat adds. “Troll Susan Sarandon is in it.”

Dave kisses Dirk again quickly before responding. “Just as long as it’s not _The Prestige_. That shit fucks with my head.”

Dirk sits down heavily on the towel; the wet spot is unavoidable. “Maybe I’m just predictable, as the guy who’s known for showering, but I feel like that ought to take precedence.”

“Or we could just take a nap.” Caliborn does not open his eyes. He flicks out his tongue again. “Right here.”

“Whatever everybody wants to do, I’m gonna go get reunited with this bowl of popcorn.” Dave stands up, but doesn’t rush for the kitchen as quickly as his statement would indicate. “And think of some more Neopets jokes.”

Dirk lies down on the floor, far more off the towel than on it, for better or worse. “I think maybe I’m feeling the nap idea more than I initially thought.”

“Aight, suit yourselves.” Dave grabs three more towels off the alchemized stack and drapes them over his friends: one lengthwise for Dirk, and two horizontally across the combined shoulders and hips of Caliborn and Karkat, who have steadfastly continued snuggling despite the mess. “I’ll go get you some water and make sure the front door is way fucking locked.”

“You are a hero among men, Dave.” Karkat lets out a deep sigh. “Let no one ever dare to fucking imply otherwise.”

“You know it, dude.”

At long last, Dave shuts off the TV.


End file.
